


it's alright

by wholesome_gay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, POV Sirius Black, Sharing a Bed, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 07:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20702339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholesome_gay/pseuds/wholesome_gay
Summary: Sirius has nightmares. Remus comforts him.





	it's alright

Sirius had a lot of nightmares as a child. He’d hoped it was something he’d grow out of, but, if anything, he’d grown into it. This past year, they’d been more frequent, violent, and vivid than ever. Sleeping undisturbed was a rare occurrence.

He talked in his sleep, too, or so he’d been told. 

Back in second year, he’d awoken to Remus Lupin shaking his shoulder. 

Sirius stared at him blankly. 

“You were having a bad dream,” Remus whispered, hovering over him, barely visible in the darkness.

“How’d you know?” Sirius wondered.

“Well, you were talking,” Remus said gently, removing his hand from Sirius’s shoulder.

Well, that was embarrassing. “What was I saying?”

“I don’t know, but you didn’t sound happy.” Remus sat tentatively on the side of the bed. “Do you… do you want me to stay here until you fall back asleep?”

Sirius hesitated. He imagined James teasing him. He pictured the sneer that would appear on Regulus’s face if he knew Sirius wanted to be comforted after a nightmare, even though it hadn’t been so long ago that he’d crept into Sirius’s bedroom on bad nights.

“Alright.”

“Alright,” Remus echoed. He remained sitting where he was.

Sirius considered inviting him under the covers, but quickly dismissed the idea. This was already humiliating enough.

When Sirius woke up the next morning, Remus was in his own bed - as he should be - and James and Peter were none the wiser. 

It happened again, and again. The third time, because it was an especially chilly night, Sirius moved toward the edge of the bed and lifted a corner of the blanket, an offering. Remus slipped under wordlessly. They were always careful to maintain space between them, at least a hand’s width, and Remus was always back in his own bed by morning. It became a silent routine, something never spoken of in the light of day. 

But at the beginning of their fifth year, Sirius cast a silencing charm on his four-poster. Remus didn’t deserve to be woken up so often. James could sleep through anything, and Peter’s bed was farthest from Sirius’s, so they were almost never disturbed by his noisy dreaming, but Remus was a light sleeper, and he needed rest more than any of them.

“Have the nightmares stopped?” Remus had asked.

“Yes,” Sirius lied. Remus didn’t look like he believed him, but he didn’t ask again.

Besides, fifteen was too old for this. So was fourteen, and thirteen. It had to end at some point.

* * *

Now Sirius was sixteen, nearing seventeen, and he really had no right to wish that Remus would do what he used to do. But when he woke up shaking, sheets damp with cold sweat, he couldn’t pretend to himself that wasn’t what he wanted. 

In his dream, his mother had been performing the Cruciatus Curse on Regulus, and Sirius was just standing there, watching. Then the dream shifted, and he was the one holding a wand pointing at his brother.

The potential to be cold, calculating, compassionless - to be like his mother - lived inside of him like a tumor. Whenever he gave into those impulses - like The Incident last spring - it grew. Even if he never returned to 12 Grimmauld Place (and he never planned to), it was there waiting for him when he closed his eyes.

“Remus,” Sirius whispered, even though he knew no one could hear him through the charmed curtains. He thought that just saying his name might be a comfort. “Moony,” he said, louder, feeling the way his mouth moved around the word. 

Sirius knew he wasn’t normal, knew that others besides his family frowned upon what he was, and he’d accepted that. But denial hadn’t done anything to stop the _wanting, _and neither did acceptance. It lived in the back of his throat, between his fingers, in his sternum. 

Knowing that sleep was out of his reach for the next hour at least, or however long it took for the dream to seep out of the forefront of his mind, he slipped out of bed and retrieved his wand, an inkwell, and the book of runes he’d stolen from the library. Sirius conjured up a needle, then muttered “lumos.” He held his wand between his teeth, bed curtains containing the eerie glow, and began marking up the skin on his right hand. 

* * *

“What’s this?” Remus whispered during Potions, just barely brushing the back of Sirius’s hand. It was enough to send goosebumps up his arm, which Remus hopefully didn’t notice.

Sirius placed his hand on the desk they shared that so Remus could see it better. “Like it?” he asked, proud of his handiwork. 

Remus was trying to look disapproving, but Sirius could see right through it. “What rune is that?” he asked, adding a spoonful of doxy eggs to their cauldron. It gurgled menacingly.

“Well, someone hasn’t been paying attention in Ancient Runes,” Sirius said, smirking. 

Remus rolled his eyes, and looked like he was about to say something else, but Slughorn began strolling toward their cauldron to inspect the potion within, which was definitely closer to the color of bile than a sunshine yellow.

* * *

Lying in bed, heart still hammering from a dream about Remus resting in a pool of his own blood after a full moon that Sirius was somehow not present for, he began to formulate a plan for the following night. It was quite simple, if a bit selfish.

In the morning, after the others were on their way to breakfast, Sirius undid the silencing charm on his bed that he had been renewing for so long. He slipped his wand into his pocket and hurried down the dormitory stairs to meet his friends.

* * *

“Sirius.”

He sat up with a start, lungs heaving. The bed dipped where Remus was sitting on it. 

“Are you alright?” Remus whispered.

In his dream, Sirius had been locked in the basement of Grimmauld Place as it flooded. He tried to slow his breathing and dislodge the sensation of drowning. “Fine,” he mumbled.

In the flickering light of the candle that had appeared on his bedside table, Sirius could make out the concern on Remus’s face. The plan had worked. He wasn’t sure if he felt more guilty or relieved.

“What were you dreaming about?”

“I don’t remember,” he lied, unsure why he didn’t want to tell Remus, as there was nothing particularly revealing about the nightmare. Remus probably didn’t believe him, but he didn’t prod. He just slipped under the blankets as if this ritual of theirs had never stopped. It certainly wasn’t a gesture he deserved. Selfish, selfish.

“So,” Remus said, as Sirius’s breathing began to return to normal. “Tell me about the tattoo.”

Sirius lifted his right hand from beneath the duvet so that Remus could see it. The skin was still a bit inflamed. “The rune, it’s mean to dispel despair.” If anyone else had asked, he would have made something up. But this was something Remus - and maybe only Remus - understood about him.

“Is it working?” 

Sirius shrugged. “Too soon to tell.” He hadn’t expected it to. Even magic couldn’t fix his brain.

They were quiet for a while. Then, “What made you decide to remove the silencing charm?”

“What?” Maybe it was stupid of him to think that Remus wouldn’t put two and two together. But he wasn’t about to admit it.

“It’s alright, Sirius.”

Sirius turned away, feeling exposed. Maybe if he pretended to fall asleep, Remus would leave. That’s not really what he wanted, but he was suddenly a bit overwhelmed by his friend’s close presence. He could feel the warmth radiating from Remus’s body.

After half an hour, or maybe ten minutes, of trying to regulate his breathing and keep his eyes closed, Sirius gave up. It was unfair to ask Remus to coddle him after nightmares when Remus didn’t even know. He deserved to know.

“Moony?”

“Yeah?” Of course he was still awake.

Sirius stared up at the frame of his four poster. “I’m… you know.” Obviously he didn’t know, or he wouldn’t be lying there. Sirius clenched his hands, steeling himself. “Gay.” He waited for Remus to do something. Laugh at him, jump out of the bed, express disgust. Something. Anything.

Eventually, Remus responded. “I thought you might be.”

Was he really that fucking transparent? Well, Remus had always been observant. Sirius exhaled loudly. He very briefly considered obliviating Remus, but not only was that morally unjustifiable, but he had _already known_, so there was no point.

Sirius buried his face in his pillow and wished he could disapparate. “Well, you can go now,” he mumbled to Remus.

Remus didn’t move, possibly because he hadn’t been able to make out what Sirius had said.

Sirius lifted his head from his pillow and looked at Remus, who looked back with an unreadable expression.

“What, aren’t afraid it’ll catch?” It was supposed to come off as derisive, but it just sounded defensive.

“Maybe it already has,” Remus replied, still staring at Sirius.

Sirius rolled over angrily. “Piss off, Remus,” he whispered with as much malice as he could manage. This was the sort of comment he expected from James, not _Remus_. If he’d known Remus was going to mock him, he wouldn’t have said anything. Stupid. Really, what was he thinking?

Still, Remus didn’t move.

A minute later, Sirius felt fingers brush the back of his hand and then intertwine with his. Sirius flipped over to face Remus, shocked by the contact. Remus’s eyes were wide and his gaze shifted back and forth from Sirius’s right eye to his left. Remus bit his lip. He hadn’t let go of Sirius’s hand, and Sirius hadn’t pulled away.

“Is this alright?” Remus whispered.

Sirius tried to respond, but he couldn’t find the words, so he just nodded. 

Remus moved closer so that their legs and arms were touching, and then rested his face in the crook of Sirius’s neck. Sirius could feel Remus’s breath. He felt like his body was alight with Floo powder flames, warm and tingling but unable to hurt him.

His mind was still struggling to catch up with the unexpected turn of events, but his body was very present in the moment. Thank Merlin the blanket was covering his lower half. 

Remus’s hair smelled like coconuts. Sirius brought his free hand to Remus’s head and carded his fingers through his curls. Part of him was still waiting to be told off or pushed away. Remus pressed his nose into Sirius’s neck and made a small, contented sound.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Remus said quietly, his lips nearly close enough to brush against Sirius’s skin.

On the one hand, Sirius didn’t want to sleep through a moment of this. On the other hand, his limbs were heavy with exhaustion, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so… safe.

“I don’t-” Sirius started. He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to go back to your bed.”

Suddenly Remus sat up and moved away. Probably he’d thought of what James and Peter would say in the morning. Too much, he’d asked for too much. He was always asking for too much.

Remus leaned over toward the bedside table and blew out the candle, then pulled the bed curtains shut and nestled up against Sirius again. The tension left Sirius’s body, replaced with relief.

* * *

He slept better that night than he’d slept in years.

**Author's Note:**

> they love each other so much. RIP my heart
> 
> moonynpadfootforever.tumblr.com


End file.
